Forget Me Not
by naughtytemplar
Summary: "You always did like your staffs better."
1. Chapter 1

The first time he saw her, she was still a refugee trying to earn coin for her family. He had admired her determination, the way she held herself was different from the regular castaways. The city was not kind to Fereldans, even for a respectable Templar such as himself. But he had earned his commissions and title. Knight-Captain. He never thought he would be able to live up to it. Not after…

He tried not to think about what happened in Kinloch Hold, but they still came to him unbidden. The nightmares would stay with him throughout the rest of his life, no doubt. The depravity of Uldred's monsters sometimes interspersed with memories of a particular mage. After the initial anger he had felt to the blood mages and taking it out on everyone around him, he felt incredible remorse. He just wished he could see her again and apologise.

Despite what people thought of him, he had been in love once. He thought, perhaps, once was enough.

The second time he saw her, was not how he would want any one to see him. Threatening recruits was not something he was proud of, but it had to be done. He did feel a little glad that she showed up when she did. That was because Wilmod had happily decided to turn into a giant flaming abomination. Maker's sweet breath. For a moment, a jolt of fear rooted his whole body in place. It was only muscle memory and pure instinct that made him draw his sword and shield. She had struck first, swinging her lance at the abomination with swift deftness.

When the battle was over, he turned to thank her but he had to pause. Up close, she looked so much alike to Solona, albeit a rougher and leaner version, and it almost made him weak in the knees. Solona, who rescued him from the tower. Solona, the woman he had loved once despite her being a mage. The same woman he had pushed away because she was recruited as a Warden. Of course, now she was the Hero of Ferelden. She had bigger things to be worried about.

He thought he was over her but Hawke was proof that he was not.

He forced himself to speak, to thank her. There were people watching, and he was the Knight-Captain. He could not allow himself to show weakness. He explained the situation of the missing recruits and she offered to help him. She was trying to find Keran, because his sister had begged for help.

The next time he saw her, she had dragged the man back and reported the work of blood mages in their ranks. He wanted to dash his head against the wall. Again, his mind screamed. When will it ever stop?

It was only after the Qunari attack that he discovered she was an apostate, although he did have his suspicions. He often wondered whether it was because of her fierce determination or that she resembled Solona so much that made him turn a blind eye. The Knight-Commander had declared her Champion and exempted her dedication to the Circle. For now, at least. News of her achievements in the Deep Roads had spread across the city like wildfire. She had reclaimed the Amell estate for her family. He had briefly considered returning the Amell signet ring to Hawke but decided against it. Ironically, her brother had decided to join the Order. The young man was… definitely something.

New recruits weren't allowed to leave the training quarters. Sometimes he saw her lurking around the Gallows but he never approached her to ask if she needed anything. She seemed the type of person who was completely capable on her own. Her brother asked about her once and asked if he could send her a letter. Just to let their mother know how he was doing, of course. He wasn't sure why but he offered to check on them since he was visiting Hightown anyway. He could tell the boy really wanted to know how his family was doing, despite his rather callous demeanour.

He had his own ulterior motive for that, of course.

When he knocked on the heavy mahogany door, he was sure her mother or servant would answer it. He was not expecting to see her face though. She looked at him wide surprised eyes, which instantly turned to caution. They were the same warm brown eyes that he was so used to seeing back in Ferelden. It must run in the family.

"Knight-Captain?" her voice was soft and polite.

"Champion," he intoned.

They stared at each other awkwardly for three seconds before he explained himself. Her wary look changed to excitement. How did he find that so endearing? He was just about to excuse himself after handing her the letter when her mother came to the door as well. He remembered Leandra from when he was a young boy. She often came to visit his mother and they would sit and talk for hours on end. Then she and her family had to move for some reason they had never found out. Until now, of course, they were a family of illegal apostate nomads. Cullen smiled warmly when he saw her.

"Knight-Captain! Come in!" she enthused. "It's so rare to see you out of the Gallows."

"Yes, I find myself having the day off," he said.

"Come in, have something to eat," Leandra beckoned. "We were just about to have lunch."

"I don't want to impose…"

"Nonsense!" she was all but pulling him inside and he didn't think he could possibly escape her hold.

To his surprise, Hawke had closed the door behind them. She seemed a bit tense but she still managed to smile politely at him.

"Did I ever tell you?" Leandra turned to her daughter. "Cullen's mother was a friend of mine back in Redcliffe."

"I see," a wave of understanding seemed to have washed over her and she visibly relaxed. "You're in luck, Knight Captain, my mother cooked her signature dish today."

"Please, Cullen is fine," he said. "Is it the Amell stew?"

"You remember that?" Leandra beamed proudly. "But you were so small back then."

"My mother liked to recreate it," he replied.

"I miss Meera, how is she?"

"She's great, apparently Father has managed to drop off his horse again," he told her then reminded himself that he should probably not give too much of himself away in front of the Champion.

"Oh, old Lester was always so clumsy," she chuckled.

They led him into the dining area, which was rather small and humble considering the rest of the estate. Although, he supposed with only the two of them now, he could understand if they felt uncomfortable to sit at a large table. They ate with their servants and it seemed like they were a family like that. Leandra was dead set on including him in this little setting. To his surprise, Hawke was very talkative. He supposed she missed having another Fereldan to talk to, or maybe he reminded her of her brother. She teased him about the Templar robes and it made him think of Solona again.

Overall, it was rather nice.

He had forgotten what it felt like to be with normal people (minus the Champion). When they were done with desserts, Leandra asked him what he was doing before she interrupted him. He told her he was going to the coast. The older woman's eyes lit up then. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"Eden loves going to the coast too, don't you, dear?" she looked at her daughter.

"Ah… yes, I do," Hawke replied, a little confused by the turn of events.

Eden… it was a lovely sounding name. He thought it suited her.

"Why don't you accompany Cullen? It'll probably do you well too," Leandra suggested. "If you don't mind, of course?"

She turned back to him and everyone at the table waited for his answer.

"Of course not, it would be my honour," he said, exactly the picture of gentlemanly grace.

Leandra smiled, pleased.

And that was how he had ended up at the beach with the Champion of Kirkwall. It felt a little strange, mostly because he felt so at ease with her despite the fact that she was an apostate. But everything about her was the complete opposite of that. She said that she did not like to use her magic unless she really had to. Magic was a gift, it was to be used sparingly. Lovingly.

He liked the idea of that. He wished more mages thought like her.

"Why did you become a Templar, Cullen?"

"I liked the idea of protecting people," he said.

"Protecting people…" she smiled sadly. "I like the idea of that too."

He knew what she meant. Most mages flee or avoid the Circle because they thought it was a prison. To be fair, not all the Templars were good people. Some were blinded by their hatred or ill judgments. He tried to correct that, whenever he could. He always paid close attentions to the new recruits.

"Do you miss Ferelden?"

He turned to look at her and had to catch his breath. The sea stretched out behind her like rippled glass. The sky was an endless myriad of colours as the sun began to set beneath the distant horizon. Her skin glowed softly under the light, giving her pale skin a warmer hue. Where her hair caught the sun, it shone a dark brown and her eyes were brighter from their walk. It made him think back to Solona and their conversation before she left the Circle. The sea certainly made things hopelessly romantic, he thought.

"Cullen?" she frowned in concern.

He looked away.

"Yes and no," he replied.

"I feel the same way," she said.

Of course she did. Her home was destroyed in the Blight, and she had lost her sister to the darkspawn. There were blissful and bitter memories intertwined together with that single location. He completely understood.

"Bethany might have gone to the Circle here," she looked out to the open sea. "She always told me that she was tired of hiding…"

"You still miss her?"

"I do."

She looked sad at the thought and he wanted to reach out and comfort her. But he had no idea how.

"She's at the Maker's side now," he said the only thing that he knew to say. "She is at peace."

Hawke smiled wanly at him.

"You might have liked her," she told him. "She was a devoted little Andrastian, always said her prayers and she was a good girl. She never cried, just looked at you with those big amber eyes. Everyone who ever met her instantly fell in love with her."

Amell women did have that particular trait in common. She turned away from him. He reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder without even thinking about it. She looked back, a little surprised but a little grateful as well. He took that as a good sign.

"I know it must be difficult," he told her. "But your sister would want you to be happy."

"She was always like a ray of sunshine," she laughed. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to burden you with all this."

"It's alright," he gave her a small smile. "It's nice to know that the Champion of Kirkwall is human after all.

She groaned. "What has Varric been saying about me now?"

Cullen had to chuckle at that. He had heard the dwarf's tall tales, certainly. Anyone with ears would want to hear the things the dwarf came up with, particularly about the Champion.

"The latest I heard was that you ripped a dragon's head apart with your bare hands," he offered. "And you hang its skull on top of your bed."

She wrinkled her nose disdainfully and it still made her look pretty.

"That's barbaric! Mother would never allow me anyway," she said.

He gave her another smile and her face softened.

"What about your family? You don't have any other siblings?" she asked.

He shook his head. "It's just me and my parents. My father was a merchant and my mother tended our garden."

"Do you miss them?"

He shrugged. "We're used to the distance. I write to them often."

She nodded her head. "I always thought family was important. I used to only have my family, we moved around too much for us to have any real friends."

They lapsed into silence and strolled along the coastline. The waves lapped against their bare feet, licking at their ankles. A sudden huge wave crashed against them, soaking most of their body. Hawke seemed to have gotten the worst of it as she was nearer to the water. She gasped out loud, freezing on the spot. They exchanged looks before laughing at each other. They decided perhaps they had overstayed their welcome on the coastline and proceeded to head back to the city. He knew she was a bit of a jokester but the stories she told him on their walk back sounded absolutely ridiculous. She told him about her companions and he noticed her face change when she talked about the apostate Anders. It was an endearing sort of look but full of pain as well. He recognised that look all too easily.

"You adore him," he pointed out and she started.

"Is it… that obvious?" she rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly. "Bela always said our uh… sexual tension could fill up the whole of Kirkwall and make it explode."

He gave a little lopsided smirk but there was a tension in his chest as she said that. Was it jealousy? No, it was something else.

"He adores you too then?" he tried to sound casual about it but the question sounded hollow to his ears.

"I think so but… I suppose it's a bit complicated," she replied.

He wasn't sure whether he wanted to know. They could see the city closing in now, the walls casting deep shadows against the ground. There was barely any light by now. They walked back quickly to her estate, still damp as they were from the coast. He bid her good night and made his return to the Gallows. That was not the last time they would spend together at the sea.


	2. Chapter 2

When Hawke closed the door behind her and turned around, she found her mother waiting by the fireplace. She had a little knowing smile on her face that Hawke was sure that she did not like. She hesitantly walked towards her, petting her Mabari on the head. The dog gave an appreciative woof at her return.

"Did you have a nice time?" her mother asked her, eyes wide in anticipation.

"It was… surprisingly nice," she acquiesced.

"Cullen was always such a sweet boy," Leandra reminisced. "He had such a gentle and kind heart."

"Mother, he's the Knight-Captain," she pointed. "Of the Templars? The people we spent our lives running away from?"

"But you don't have to run away anymore," her mother said. "You're the Champion now, dear, there's power in that title. The Knight-Commander herself exempted you from the Circle. Don't you see?"

Hawke pursed her lips. She did not see and Leandra guessed as much.

"Darling, you need to think about your future," she started.

"Mother," Hawke started to protest but her mother ploughed on.

"I know you have feelings for that apostate boy," she said. "I know he is handsome and kind, and he's a mage too so you share that in common. But maybe you shouldn't tie yourself down to one man just yet."

Hawke opened her mouth then closed it again, at a loss as to what to say.

"But I love him," she blurted out.

"Darling, I know what kind of man he is," she said. "I can see he's on some kind of personal mission and he's not going to stop until it's done. I just… don't want to see you hurt."

She had to sit down. There was no chair in her immediate vicinity so she settled on the carpet. Sirius laid his head on her lap.

"But Cullen, Mother?" she raised an eyebrow.

"Cullen is a good man," Leandra said. "Just spend some time with him. You can still be friends with him. He is Fereldan too, it's good to stick together."

Hawke eyed her dubiously but nodded anyway. She never had the heart to argue with her. Leandra smiled, seemingly satisfied. The next day, Hawke had to see Anders. She brought some food with her because Maker only knew whether that man actually ate anything. She worried about him a lot. It was like he sustained himself on his own willpower. Or maybe it was Justice. She just knew that underneath those layers of rags and feathers, was a very skinny undernourished revolutionary apostate healer.

He smiled at her when she stepped inside the clinic and gave a little wave. She sat by his table and waited for him to finish with his patients. It was the usual sort of routine. Usually she would scribble on the margins of his manifesto, adding her own little thoughts or making silly comments. Sometimes she would draw and he stuck the drawings on the pillar in front of the table, which was rather fully covered by now. She looked at the one she had drawn of him and wondered what he thought when he looked at it. Anders walked towards her, heaving a weary sigh.

"I hope I'm not disturbing you?" she looked at him.

"Of course not," he smiled instantly. "Seeing you makes everything better."

She hated it when he said things like that but it still made her smile and her heart drum a rhythm.

"I brought you some of my mother's famous Amell stew," she gestured. "Apparently it's a real treat."

"I can't wait to try it," he beamed. "That does remind me, I haven't eaten anything the whole day."

"Anders," she chastised. "You really make me worry."

"I don't mean to, sweetheart," he kissed her cheek.

"Just-" she dragged a nearby stool towards the table. "Here."

He took a seat next to her and she had to suppress a shiver at their close proximity. Maker, she really did love him. She watched him unwrap the container of stew and set aside the bread on the cloth. He fed her a bite and she bit her lip to stop herself from grinning.

"This is heaven," he told her. "Thank you and give my compliments to your mother."

"She'll be delighted to hear that," she smirked. "Cullen was going on about how his mother always tried to recreate it."

"Cullen?" his head snapped up to look at her.

She inhaled sharply at her mistake.

"Please tell me it's not the same person I'm thinking of," he said seriously.

"He was just delivering a letter from Carver," she said quickly. "Mother knew his family back in Ferelden and invited him in for lunch."

"But he's a Templar," he looked at her with wide scandalised eyes.

"I know he is," she looked away. "Mother insisted, I couldn't be rude to him."

"Sometimes you have to put your foot down, Hawke," he said. "He's the enemy, you can't… fraternise with the enemy."

She giggled. "Keep your friends close and your enemies closer?"

"Eden."

She sobered quickly. People only ever used her name when they were being serious. She wasn't sure why, it was like an unwritten law she wasn't aware of.

"I thought maybe I could be an ambassador for mages," she told him. "I know you think they're beyond reasoning but… I can try?"

"I suppose you could," he sighed as well. "Just be careful."

"I'm the Champion of Kirkwall," she grinned. "Slayer of dragons and darkspawn."

He plucked her nose with his fingers, making her wrinkle it.

"Stop being cute," he chuckled.

"You actually like it," she teased.

"I do," he smirked and she leaned against him.

He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her head to lean on his shoulder. He kissed the top of her head and finished up his food, giving her little spoonfuls as well. In that short moment, she felt like everything was right in the world. She could live in that one moment. They chatted for a while before another patient came looking for him. She invited him to The Hanged Man that night to play Wicked Grace with the others. He usually refused but this time he didn't. She was very pleased.

Hawke went to the tavern after that to look for Isabela. It was already around evening and she liked to get a head start on the drinking. She was a better player like that, it was ridiculously hilarious. She had found herself growing incredibly attached to the pirate captain ever since they first met. They thought alike, like peas in a pod, Varric would call them. She supposed he was right. Isabela took one look at her and frowned, asking what was on her mind. She told her what her mother had said the night before, about Cullen and Anders.

Of course, like everything, Isabela had to make it into a huge innuendo. It did cheer her up considerably though.

"I love Anders," she proclaimed. "I would do anything for him."

"Even slaughter thousands of innocent people?" Isabela asked. "Capture and enslave hundreds of poor innocent elves?"

"When you say it like that," she bit her lip. "You make it sound awful."

"Just be careful when you go around saying things like that, kitten," Isabela pointed. "If you're not prepared for the worst, you shouldn't be making grand promises."

"What if I am prepared, Bela?" she looked at her with wide scared eyes. "Is that horrible of me?"

"I don't think so," Bela's eyes softened. "But if he lets you do all that, then he'd be the horrible one."

"I don't want anyone to be horrible," she sighed. "Maker."

"So tell me about your walk with the Knight Captain?" Isabela leaned forwards. "Did you... play in the sand? Had a little duel amongst the waves?"

"We made sweet love with the sun setting beneath the horizon," Hawke deadpanned.

The older woman's eyes widened.

"Oh, my."

"Bela, really!" she exclaimed. "We just talked about Ferelden and family, and shared stories. That's all."

"But…?"

"But nothing."

"Your face has but written all over it."

"But Mother insists I get to know him better," Hawke finally sighed in defeat. "And I actually did have a good time."

"That's not too bad," Isabela shrugged. "I thought you accidentally stabbed him. Or he accidentally stabbed you."

"Honestly, Bela, I don't want to think about the Knight Captain that way," she cringed.

"Think about the Knight Captain in what way?"

Hawke spun right round she thought her head was going to fly right off her shoulders and across the tavern. Anders cocked his head to the side questioningly.

"I-I-that is…" she sputtered, feeling a blush creeping up her face.

Isabela laughed beside her.

"Oh, nothing, Anders," the pirate smirked. "Just talking about the various techniques of a Templar sword versus an apostate staff."

Hawke looked at her pointedly, biting her lips to keep herself from sputtering incoherently some more.

"Oh, well, we all know who'll win that match," Anders said offhandedly.

"I bet!" Isabela exclaimed as she stood up. "I'm going to wake Varric up from his nap. Be back in a tick."

She slid past him through the door and he proceeded to take her recently vacated chair next to Hawke.

"So Templar swords and apostate staffs?" he raised an eyebrow.

"I have no idea what either of you are talking about," she lied. "You're here early, so eager to see me?"

"I'm always eager to see you," he smirked.

Ugh, Maker, she just wanted to- she leaned over and pecked the corner of his lips. Oh, great, why did she just do that? She had only had a bottle of wine with Isabela, she could not be drunk already so she didn't have that as an excuse.

"Oh, sorry-" she started to apologise but Anders took her face and pressed his lips fully against hers. It took her by surprise and she swore she forgot how to breathe. He pulled away and looked at her in embarrassment.

"I… uh…" he stuttered. Anders never stuttered, or was ever at a lost of words. He was Mister Comeback, he always knew what to say. Seeing him like this made her heart melt and she pulled his collar, crushing her lips against his. He deepened the kiss, and she could hear their heavy breaths as she felt his tongue with her own. Something inside her stirred and her hand was flying up to his hair when she suddenly heard a chuckle. They jumped apart as if burnt to find Isabela and Varric standing by the door.

"What did I tell you, Varric?" the woman grinned.

"Fine, here's your fifty silvers," Varris grumbled, handing over a small pouch.

"Not interrupting, are we?" Isabela called to the couple.

"No, of course not, Isabela," Hawke replied, voice thick with sarcasm.

"Good girl," she nodded. "You always did like your staffs better."

Hawke groaned and placed her face in her hand.


End file.
